Jude
H earing Violet Moore beg for my cock is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. How have I survived without it for so long? All I know is the world has been in dull gray-scale, and now it’s bursting into bright technicolor. Angels blow tiny trumpets high up in the clouds.
Of course I’m going to give it to her.
Of course I’m going to make her feel good.
Nothing else matters in the whole goddamn universe except making Violet’s toes curl, and making her voice hoarse from screaming my name. Obviously.
When I prowl forward, flipping her dress up and lining our bodies together, she’s already soaking wet. Already whimpering, her hips rocking up to meet mine.
I slide her cream lace thong to one side, thumb skimming over the trimmed dark strip of hair on her mound. And Violet quivers, her thick thighs dropping wider for me, her head tilting back with a sigh. She’s so responsive, wound so tight that a single brush of my fingertip is enough to make her whole body clench and roll.
“You’re mine,” I tell her, rubbing my bare shaft along her seam. I’m already slicked up with her spit, already shiny and wet and so hard it hurts, but there’s no way I’m rushing this. No way I’ll rush her. “Violet? You’re mine.”
“I—I know.” She’s nodding along, her bottom lip bitten red. Pearly white teeth sink into that plump lip, and I trace her mouth with my thumb, then nudge past her lips until she sucks me to the second knuckle, her eyes glazed with pleasure.
Her tongue swirls around me, and her cheeks hollow.
Christ .
Gritting my teeth, I count backward from ten. Are you listening, universe? I will not, I repeat, will not finally get Violet Moore to beg for this, then embarrass myself in two minutes flat. Not happening.
But I’m overheating under my clothes, and my muscles are tense on my bones. My heart’s thumping hard enough to bruise, and there’s a knife of pleasure stabbing in my gut.
Back and forth, I rock.
Up and down her slit, parting her with my shaft.
“Please,” Violet whispers again, the word muffled around my thumb. “Please, . I need it. Need you. ”
God damn.
“Alright.” Hitching one of her thighs higher, I line up with her entrance. “Alright, sweetheart. I’m here.”
And every ounce of my awareness narrows in on the tip of my cock as it presses inside her body. Her tight, hot, slick channel sucks me deeper as her inner muscles quiver, and she’s so good, so good, so good.
Violet is really fucking tight. Really tight. I pause, pulse hammering.
“Are you—?”
“Uh-huh.” She nods, gifting me another dreamy smile. I lean back, stunned.
And in another life, this is the part where Violet would warn me not to mock her; where she’d search for some vulnerability in me too, to make it even. Where she’d stiffen up and lash out, and everything would fracture apart.
But tonight Violet rolls her hips up to me, and sighs when I bend down to kiss her neck. She’s not embarrassed that this is her first time. Not clenching up with distrust.
Because she’s mine.
Holy shit. Finally.
“This is the only cock you’ve ever begged for, huh?” If my body temperature climbs another degree, I’ll burst into flame. She’s mine. All mine. “Well, it’s the only one you’ll ever need. I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, Violet, you’ll never even wonder about another man.”
She snorts, winding one arm around my neck, and nuzzles me back. “? You’re worried about nothing. I’m already there.”
And there’s no way I’m this lucky, no way I’ll ever deserve such a prize, but I swear, I’ll spend my whole life working to make this woman happy. Pressing forward, I grit my teeth against the hot squeeze of her body.
She’s tense at first.
Braced for pain.
But as I coax her to relax, as I kiss and stroke and tease, Violet melts back against the rug and I cover her completely.
One long, deep thrust.
Another.
Another.
Her body adapts to me quickly, getting slicker, giving way, until we’re sealed together as tight as we can go, rocking together on the rug.
“I love you,” I mutter into her hair. “Have I told you that yet?”
Her laugh is bright, echoing around my apartment.
Pushing up onto my hands, I start to give it to her harder. Her curves jiggle beneath that silk, and Violet’s head tilts from side to side as she moans and whimpers.
Pink cheeks, mussed up bangs, and the slick sounds of our bodies joining. Need to remember this. Need to commit every last detail to memory.
She’s mine.
All mine.
And Violet sighs so sweetly when I reach between our bodies, rubbing her clit. She tilts her head to let me lick and nibble her neck, then squeezes my waist with those magnificent thighs, urging me on.
We’re not fighting.
Not grappling for dominance.
For once in our lives, we’re working together. Chasing a shared goal: that spot inside Violet that makes her breath hitch and her blush deepen, the spot which makes her clamp down on me like a vise. And every time I hit it, I chase her higher toward her peak, until she’s spread out beneath me, trembling.
“Oh—oh god. . Oh god.”
Sweat trickles down my spine beneath my shirt. Gonna bundle us both into the shower after this. Gonna clean us off and then lick between Violet’s legs until she slumps against the tiles. But first—
“You’re so goddamn perfect. Come for me. Let go, sweetheart. Trust me.”
She bites down hard on her lower lip, head thrashing, stomach muscles clenching.
My lungs freeze.
And I feel it. Every twitch and gasp and ripple of pleasure. Every blissful shudder that rocks her frame. I feel Violet Moore come apart from the inside, feel the evidence of her trust in me, and it makes me brand new.
When I follow her over the edge a minute later, grunting and pumping her full… it’s a sticky slice of heaven.
* * *
Two years later
It’s quiet in the office today. Phones bleat and keyboards tap and the water cooler glugs, but it’s calm for a Friday morning. Sighing, I open my email and scan through the newest contracts.
This job is fine.
Fun, even. I get to work on cool projects, get to be creative with big budgets, and boss around an army of minions—I mean, interns. But it’s not the same when Violet’s gone.
Leaning back in my chair, I scowl at the elevator doors, arms folded over my chest. Any minute now.
The sign above the elevator lights up, counting through the floors. I swallow hard, chest rioting.
Even now, after two years together, Violet makes my heart go crazy. What’s the manly version of butterflies? Bats? She gives me bats in my stomach.
The elevator pings, and the doors slide open.
Violet strolls out into the office, a tote bag slung on her shoulder and one hand resting on her baby bump beneath her shirt dress.
“Judas.” My wife pokes her tongue out at me, settling into the chair opposite mine. Not long now until her maternity leave begins—and not long until I strike out and start my own agency, becoming my own boss. I’ve dawdled and dragged my feet for a couple years, too eager to see Violet at work every day, but our growing baby has given me that extra push. Time to up my game. To provide.
Violet can always come work for me, too. If she wants.
Sparks will surely fly.
“Falafel again?” I nod at her tote bag as she places it on the desk, some mystery wrapper rustling inside. “You’re a sucker for those coupons.”
“Aaaand there goes your free bite.” Violet grins, shifting in her chair until it squeaks. “Now who’s the sucker? Hope you enjoy your crappy little ham sandwich for lunch.”
Excuse me? “I made that!”
Violet grins wider. “Exactly.”
And I hope we never stop sparring. Hope these sparks never, ever die out.
My wife is the best enemy I ever had.